


Fascination

by MisterPseudonymous



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: A Peppering of Plot, Alternate Universe, F/M, Female Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Romance and Silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterPseudonymous/pseuds/MisterPseudonymous
Summary: The darkness took you; it felt like home.





	1. Be Wary of Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed a word choice because story is going to be a little more of the old-timey feels.

As you fell off the stern of an oversized cruise ship, you had a few precious seconds of eternity to contemplate, wonder, and dread.

Stars glittered marvelously, little gemstones and diamond dust sprinkled insouciantly on a sable canvas. You could never witness such a sight at home with all the electric lamps, or at least, not as such an empyreal wonder. No, you needed to be in the open waters, in the salty air.

But you weren’t allowed to be here, your father forbade it most profusely. You always wondered why, for surely his dislike of water derived from more than simply drowning.

Back crashing hard against algid waters, the air was forced from your lungs before you could even think to hold your breath—breath you so desperately needed. Sinking beneath the tides, the cruise ship bedimmed into little more than a pearly spectre. Soon, that too became lost in the peerless pitch. _How surreal_ , you wondered with frightening blasé, as if you were pondering a curious phrase upon a well-worn page and not your imminent—

Snapping from your reverie, you clawed at the water, trying to pull yourself up, higher. Kicking and screaming, foolishly swallowing stinging salt water, you only managed to be further mired down. But why?

You did not know how to swim, but you should not be descending so steadily, so quickly.

So you floundered and flailed, concurrently wishing for death or for someone to save you—whichever occurred first. It did not matter, just that you wanted this struggle, this state of torturous limbo to end.

A hand snaked along your backside pulling you close, effectively making your pathetic struggling cease for a heartbeat. The murky water made it nigh-impossible to see, but you tried. Something pale, or rather possibly several shades lighter than the water, but you couldn’t be certain—human eyes just weren’t suited underwater. 

You _could_ see its bioluminescent yellow eyes, and all you could think of was a monstrous angler fish, luring you in, preparing to swallow you whole. Redoubling your efforts, you pounded weakly against his—because your mind came to that conclusion with your limited senses—too-smooth chest, slipping harmlessly aside as if coated in an oil. 

And then lips, unsettlingly too human, came crashing against yours. Oh gods, if you had any air in your lungs, you’d have lost it yet again! He, the creature, it was trying to force oxygen into your mouth, not knowing that you swallowed far too much water.

Funny, you desired to die or be rescued mere moments ago. Fate decided to grant you both, exactly as you wished it.

The darkness took you; it felt like home.


	2. Manners Make a Fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to stop writing mid-chapter of Chutes just to get this done for y'all. 
> 
> Highly possible for light revisions because hindsight and I am so tired. I always typo, there's probably like 3 typos.

Your eyes fluttered open, pondering how many laborious hours were spent stringing the hundreds of colorful coral and shell fragments into the lengthy garland cord that decorated most of the ceiling. And how you wished to adorn your room in a similar fashion. Ah, but this was not your room!

Heart pounding a passionate tattoo, you bolted upright in the bed, silken sheets drenched and chill to the touch. Your head whipped to and fro, trying to ascertain, ever foolishly, just where were you and what happened.

“I cannot calm my mind, but needs must. Needs must,” you breathed out, throat sore, as if the words were a mantra against woe. Yet, you inhaled deeply, distorted recollections dissolving like seafoam against the sandy shores. You hand gently touched the tender flesh of your throat. 

You remembered painfully coughing water from your lungs, even your first deep breath of air burned.

But you frowned, for the chess board lacked a number of pieces. You would figure it out, one step at a time. 

Fingers ghosting over the delicate material of the gossamer sheets, shades of ivory and hints of silver spidersilk. The bed, larger than you deemed necessary, was designed in a similar fashion—soft, minute detailing but gaudy and gilded no less. However, that observation was not key. Again, the bed was quite sodden, but you were only damp. 

It had not been long since you were saved. Or was this a far worse fate? Fretting would only hinder your chances of figuring out your location, to say the least of grasping freedom.

Your eyes scoured, the walls alit with little oil lamps hanging from slender chains attached to posts crafted into all manner of aquatic beasts. Some you knew, others you did not. Elongated shadows danced and weaved in rhythm with the flickering flames.

Kneeling on the bed, mattress slightly sinking under your more concentrated weight, you pressed a hand against the smooth wall adjacent to the ostentatious headboard, the color forever trapped between dark gray and cobalt.

As you expected, the stony parting was cool to the touch, wet from imperceivable rivulets cascading above. Immersing in the sensation, you closed your eyes, the strong currents beyond the walls seemed as close as the blood coursing in your veins. 

A fragrance tickled your nose, bringing you to long-lost days of sleeping in a warm embrace, of jumping in puddles under a summer rain… A call, a pull, a fascinating—

—splashing of water, purposely loud to garner attention like a petulant child spurned by a disinterested adult.

Oh, but it worked, and oh, no child was he. 

He laid languidly across the floor, only his torso emerged from the pool at the farthest edge of the room, all the while his face—so white that you were certain noble women would gladly sell their souls to achieve such a pallor—a perfect mask of indifference.

As if he did not _just_ have a histrionic outburst.

But you knew his eyes, those yellow eyes— _floating in the dark, luring you_ —he was your angler fish, your savior. Though, you attempted to not be overly blatant with your staring, the crest of his head—or helmet, perhaps—was much akin to the body of a shark, redder than fingers stained with the juices of wild cherries. A shark seemed ever more apropos. 

“Young one,” his voice lilted, every syllable a hair’s breadth away from bubbling into laughter, “your appearance is rather ridiculous.”

Oh, the manners on this one.


	3. Neverking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt like home; you had no fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me longer than expected for this. I was missing one final element to get the chapter down, and it came to me as I was falling asleep last night. Such is life.

It took many heartbeats and calming breaths to form your words—words that you chose with the utmost care. For you were at a major disadvantage and much you needed to know. Far too much.

Standing with posture firm, you bowed from the waist, speaking your name before adding, “You have my utmost gratitude for saving my life, sir…” the words filled the ornate room, as if carved from ancient marble, imploring.

Of what little you did know, insulting this man or creature would be no boon. Every moment was like walking barefoot on jagged seashells and mossy stones, and your hands trembled. Digging your fingers into your still damp clothing helped to keep the shivering at bay. More than barely placated nerves caused said shivering, of that you had nary a doubt. Of that you feared. Hypothermia was a mistress you wanted no parts of. 

“Prince Sidon,” he spoke, a measure of incredulity saturated his haughty tone, stating with inflection alone that he found it preposterous _he had to inform you of his name and station_. Apparently your expression gave away your lack of recognition, so he crossed his arms, puffing out his bare chest. “Prince of the seas and oceans, ruler of Immis Orah.”

His words elucidated nothing, but you made a much more conscious effort to keep your confusion less blatant this time. “Oh yes. Of course.” But now a conundrum! You needed to continue the conversation, but how tactless should you be—how much could you get away with? 

“Pardon me for how brash I must sound, Prince Sidon, but when might I be able to go home—” You couldn’t finish, Sidon stiffened as if cut from cool marble and you could practically see the hauteur pooling in his impossibly bright eyes. Did you push too far? Though your want to go home could hardly be a surprising request.

“I found you. You belong here.” His voice lost any semblance of joviality, leaving nothing but brusque acrimony. Sidon did not wait for a response, clearly not caring, and dived back into the pool, the subsequent splash doused the closest oil lamps. 

And your prison was that much colder, that much darker.

You needed to escape.

Rushing to the large door—the only door—you nearly slipped on the slick floor. Grasping the handle, you pulled. Nothing. Using more strength, you only gained a horrendous grating shriek like nails on a chalkboard, but you could feel the vibrations run through your very bones. 

The door was effectively sealed due to unuse and age. But Sidon obviously brought you into this room. Therefore, there must be a way out.

As you turned, you screamed in a completely undignified manner. A child stood directly before you, but no simple child were they—apparently nothing in this “Immis Orah” was truly simple. For what child was made of warm-hued wood and face was verdant leaf? Or was the child simply wearing the leaf as a mask? 

“Hi,” the child waved. “I’m Aspen.”

Kneeling to be at eye-level, you returned the greetings.

“Mhm. I know who you are.” Aspen tapped their little knubby feet in one of the puddles. “The Neverking took you.”  
“Never… king?”

“Uh-huh. ‘Cause he will never be a king. Pherniize could be a queen.”

“Who is she? Does she live here too?” Maybe you could get this Pherniize to help you escape.

“You’re like a human. Not knowing anything.” Aspen huffed an exaggerated sigh. “She’s the sea-witch. Nahh… The Neverking don’t like her much. I don’t see her around. I hear her call though!”

You shook your head, you had to be more direct. “Please, can you help me get out, Aspen?”

The child stopped, staring at you with hollow eyes. “Mmmm… Nah.”

“Can you tell me how to get out instead?”

Aspen bobbled their little head and hobbled over to the dark pool where Sidon once was and pointed into its depths. You followed, peering in. You could see nothing.

Though you could not swim, should you try? Or should you wait?

“Go! Go! Go!” Aspen laughed as they pushed you in.

This time, the water was different. There was no light. Just darkness. Heaviness. Loneliness. Emptiness.

But why did it feel like home? Why were you not afraid?


End file.
